#acomar

[redheadspark]

Here (Part Two)

Summary - Azriel stays by his mate's side, not knowing his family is rallying behind him to find out who attempting to kill his mate

Warnings - Mostly Angst

A/N - Part of the Ocean Eyes Series. I posted this as a sequel of Part One, which got insanely reactions! I am so glad you guys liked Part One and I hope you like Part Two!

Part Three Found Here

"What's the plan, Rhys?"

"I'm focusing more on my cousin's health and her life in the balance than dealing with her attacker."

"That's not where my head is,"

"Enlighten me then, Cassian,"

Cassian rolled his shoulders and eyed his High Lord as Rhysand was perched at his desk in his office, the sun setting over the rolling hills outside the River House, and the cooler air was blown onto the office with ease. Cassian leaned against the wall, his arms crossed and his head reeling with questions and scenarios that he wanted to figure out immediately. But Rhysand was remaining calm, too calm for the Illyrian Army Commander's liking. He considered the wounded Illryian who was asleep upstairs, his friend's mate, his family. Someone tried to hurt his family and take away his family, and Cassian was fuming from the inside out.

But he was also a changed Illyrian, just as Rhysand and Azriel were. They were all fathers now: Rhysand with Nyx, Azriel with Alec, and Cassian with his daughter Rose. His daughter, sweet and yet fiery Rose was a splitting image of her mother but had his infectious and playful heart. They all had offspring to protect and think about, no more rash decisions and acting out on a limb. The children had to come first, and Cassian was not willing to do anything that would bring his family harm. Azriel never did that himself, yet that led to Alec almost being killed as a toddler and Azriel's mate now in a bed upstairs hanging between life and death. Nesta would never let Cassian do anything like that, not just for Rose but for Nesta too.

Cassian was the one who found you first, sprawled on the forest floor bleeding from your wing and the arrow still hanging out of your wing. You both were out in the outline border of Velaris, Cassian getting a hunch that there were rogue beings there making their way across the border into Velaris territory. You on the other hand were meeting with some of the farmers and shopkeepers that lived in the cottages there to check on them and talk business in contributing to the Community Center.

Maybe it was fate that he was there and come enough to hear your scream out, but he knew your scream far too well from knowing you since you both were younglings. He flew towards the wail you let out, his heart hitting against his chest far too hard and thinking it was a trick of the mind.

Everything slowed down for him as he gathered you in his arms, you were out cold and the poison already working in your blood. He had to act quickly, time was of the essence, and your time was about to be snuffed out if he didn't get you help in time. 

"The marks on the arrow," Cassian stated, reflecting on the arrow that was piercing your wing and sicking out so harshly that it sickened him to rethink it again, "We need to know where they came from so we get a hunch as to who did this,"

"I already have a big hunch, and I got in contact with the very High Lord that I'm thinking," Rhysand hummed, his cooldemeanor was hiding the anger he had. Cassian raised a brow at him as Rhysand rang his thumb over his fingers back and forth, a tactic he would use when he was thinking deeply, "High Lord Beron has been notified and is coming tonight,"

"What?" Cassian asked in shock, standing up stiffly and no longer leaning against the wall. 

"He knows the utmost importance of this since it does involve my cousin…my fucking family," Rhysand said the last part in a low tone, not a growl but close enough, "We are going to meet at the Townhouse since I know both yourself and Nesta would rather not have the High Lord of Autumn Court in your home,"

Cassian snorted, then gave him a questioning look, "Does Elaine and Lucien know what happened?"

"Feyre reached out and told them to stay at their home here in Velaris for the time being. In fact, I don't want any of the Inner Circle going anywhere outside of Velaris until this is resolved once and for all. We either stay in our homes or at The House of Wind until I say so," Rhysand explained as his violet eyes looked out the window to see the last images of the sun still in the sky before it hid into the horizon.

"Is that an order?" Cassian asked, Rhysand’s eyes shot back to his Commander.  Cassian, though tamer than he used to be when he was younger, was still reckless at heart at times. Something inside of him wanted him to find whoever did this and bring them pain. You were family to him, meeting him through Rhysand when he was a boy and considered him a brother of yours. His rational side was teetering to be pushed aside, and he was fine with it.

"I don't want another member of my family hurt, Cass. I consider you family, long before you became my brother-in-law. You need to think of your wife and daughter and that they need you," Rhysand explained to Cassian, seeing Cassian's eyes soften from the mention of Nesta and Rose, "We need to be smart about this, not reckless. I want you with me when we meet with High Lord Beron,"

Cassian hummed, knowing that Rhysand was right when it came to being reckless. He then gestured his head over to the doors that lead out of the office, "What about Azriel?"

"I don't want him anywhere else but with his wife, she's his priority now. And besides, I would rather not leave Azriel alone in the room with High Lord Beron. That's if Beron, or Autumn Court for that matter, did have something to do with this. He is not in the right frame of mind to be anywhere else," 

Cassian knew he was right about that too. The rage Azriel must be feeling at this moment, not knowing who in factharmed and attempted to kill his mate, must have been explosive. Cassian himself has been Azriel in such a way before, the anger that would fester deep down and be unlashed by either his shadows or his Truth Tellers. Cassian and strength behind him, but Azriel had something deeper.

Something more menacing.

"Alec is also staying here until his mother is well again, though he still doesn't know what precisely happened," Rhysand explained as he got up from his chair and walked around the desk to stand near Cassian with his arms folded in front of him, "I don't want Alec anywhere else but here, he's my nephew and he needs to be protected now more than ever. We all do, but epically him: someone is hunting his mother and father, and I won't let him become an orphan under my roof,"

"None of us want that, Rhys," Cassian reasoned with Rhysand, "He's secure and protected here with you and Feyre, and he's safe with his father, the safest he’ll ever be,”

"Which is why we need to be smart. For now, let's just focus on this meeting with Beron and making sure my cousin is comfortable and safe while she heals and come back to full health," Rhysand stated, then pausing as he gave Cassian a more cornered look, "How is Alec and Azriel now?"

"Alec's okay, he just misses his mother. As for Azriel…it's hard for him," Cassian confessed. Rhysand hummed and rubbed his eyes, already thinking of the next steps that were to come. The meeting tonight would be far too important, life-changing, and yet his cousin was still in the back of his mind and her health was his main concern. 

All he could do now was hold onto his Inner Circle, his family, so close in hopes they wouldn't slip away.

"Alright, buddy. Time for bed, okay?"

"Ok, daddy,"

Azriel softly smiled as he watched his son hop into the massive bed he was going to sleep in, the guest room that wasacross from where you were still sleeping and still healing. He left the door slightly open, being able to see you from where he was in Alec's guest room as Alec was settling into his bed. 

Alec was only told that his mother was sick, severely sick, and he was not able to see her.  Of course, it confused him at first, not understanding that he wasn't able to see his own mother since he had seen her sick before, but he knew better than to question his father.  Seeing Azriel looking worn down and defeated made Alec worry all the more. 

But Feyre was a step ahead, making sure he was well fed at dinnertime and kept him busy with his cousin Nyx until it was time for him to go to bed. Still, his mother was in the back of his mind, wondering what was it that made his mother so sick. He missed his mother, hugging her and hearing her voice telling him goodnight. Azriel tried his best to be present with Alec, but his son caught onto something that was hidden from him. 

Perhaps a trait he inherited from his father.

"Alec, I know this is different from what we're used to," Azriel explained to Alec, who was watching his father with his wide blue eyes as he was snuggled under the soft sheets of the bed, "But you are being such a trooper for going with the flow of it all.  I promise you that things are going to go back to normal soon, okay? As soon as momma is all better, we'll go back to our house and things will be back to the way they were,"

"Is it going to be forever?" Alec asked tentatively as he searched his father's tired eyes. Azriel felt a twinge of pain that his son was still kept in the dark, so speak, when it came to what truly happened to his mother. The last thing Azriel ever wanted to do was to lie to his son like this, to have that trust broken at any moment. 

"No, not forever, baby," He reassured Alec as he pushed the inky black hair out of his son's blue eyes, "This is not forever, I swear to you. You believe me?"

"Yes, Daddy," Alec replied, Azriel smiled at his son and leaned over to kiss the top of his head. He was about to leave his son to sleep, and as Azriel eased himself up from the bed, Alec spoke up again in a gentler tone. So gentle, that it sounded like the curtains were swaying in his room from the night breeze.

"Daddy, is momma gonna be okay?"

Azriel could have cried then, seeing his son watch him for an answer. Azriel never wanted this for his family, the fear of losing someone he loved and another person he loved was filled with fear and worry. Alec was only four years old, far too young for something like this to happen in his life. Nothing could prepare him for this: consoling his son and hoping that his wife would pull through. 

Alec needed his mother, Azriel knew that deep down. There was no greater bond than Alec's bond with his mother, it was thick and filled with so much happiness and love. Inwardly, Azriel wanted that himself with his mother, and he did have that in the blink of a moment when he was young.  To see his mate give that same love to his son was beyond rewarding.

Now his son, looking at his father with worry in his young eyes, was asking about his mother.

"Yeah…yeah she's gonna be okay," he reassured Alec. He had to give Alec hope, the hope that his mother would be herself again. Although he had very little hope, he would at least give some of that hope to his son. He leaned down and kissed his son one more time, "Get some sleep, okay? I'm gonna check on momma and come back to you, I love you,"

"I love you too, Daddy," Alec replied, then curled into the bed under the sheets as Azriel moved away. He felt like he needed to be in two places at once: with Alec and with you. Although you were sleeping and till healing, Alec needed you and needed your warmth. Azriel wished he could change it all, make you all better so you can hold your son. Yet as he watched Alec fall asleep, facing the window with a look of peace on his face, Azriel could breathe a bit easier. 

He kept the door into the guest room open slightly, mostly in case Alec needed him as he walked silently across the hall into the room where you were in. Still asleep, facing the empty chair where Azriel was perched for the past few hours, the moon shining into your room to cast a bluish light along your still wounded wings. Azriel could even see the moonlight shine through the thin membrane of your wings, showing the veins and the damage from the Ash Arrow.

But the way you were snuggled against the body pillow, head against the soft pillow, and your long hair draped over your shoulder, you looked more peaceful than you did earlier when Azriel found you. Azriel sat down on the chair, taking in a long breath as he held his hands together in his lap and watched you. Your deep breathing, the softness that was now slowly coming back along your skin and your cheeks thanks to the medicine from Madja. 

"I might be talking to myself here, but I hope you can hear me," Azriel said aloud in the room, his voice sounding a bit raw as he watched you in earnest, "But I need you to pull through and get better. I….I don't think I can do this without you. I won't have the strength to, no matter how hard I'll have to try. I need you, our son needs you. He needs his momma, and I…I don't wanna do this alone and without you."

He might have sounded silly since he was talking alone in the room, but then again he needed to get it off his chest. Bottling up all his fear that he's had for the past few hours, would have suffocated him. The only person he was ever safe to unload his feelings, to be open and exposed therapeutically, was the one who was asleep in front of him and unable to be fully present with him.

"I'm sorry I failed you and couldn't protect you," Azriel admitted, sinking a bit in his chair as he was fiddling with his fingers, Clutching them together tightly and refusing to let them go, "I promised you when we were mated that I would protect you, keep you safe and never let anything happen to you. I broke that promise, and I know I can never repair that,"

He thought that if you were awake, you would reprimand him for being hard on himself. Azriel could even hear it clearly in his mind, your kind voice scolding him for being immensely harsh towards himself. You've always helped him out of his moods and insecurities, including what he does and how he takes care of others around him. Azriel thought back to a talk that he had with you when Alec was still a young infant, he was voicing his worry about taking care of his family and if he was doing enough. 

He needed you to bring him back to the light, and not have him hide in the darkness.

Azriel reached out and took your hands in his own, feeling the coolness of your skin and yet how soft they were. Healways loved your soft hands, a soothing balm against his calloused and scarred skin. He leaned down and kissed the back of your hand, his lips along your skin had you shift in your sleep and hum.

"Sleep and come back to me, come back to us. Your son and I need you more than anything, so I need you to get your strength and open those eyes for me when you're ready. I'm here when you wake up, I promise.  I love you more than life itself, more than my own life, and if I could trade mine for yours then I would in a heartbeat. Just gather your strength, we'll be here waiting for you," Azriel proclaimed to you and your sleeping form.  He did speak the truth: he would trade his life for yours since at times he felt you had more good for the world than he ever did.

Azriel cannot picture a world without you, without any of your beautiful traits or your tender heart. 

Azriel heard it, almost like a whisper, as he was dead asleep with Alec cradled in his arms in the spare guest room.  His arms were tucked around his son, who was snuggled against his father and snoring softly. It was so soft, like a breeze, which didn't disturb the Spymaster at first.

But it was also distinct, not the sound of the curtains fluttering next to the bed or the very soft ticking of the clock on the fireplace mantle.  This was a shutter of a whisper, and it was calling his name.

Azriel…..Azriel….

His shadows hummed, licking along Azriel's arms as he stirred a bit in his sleep. Alec was thankfully a deep sleeper and stayed in slumber, even though his father was feeling the sensation not just with his shadows but in his mind. It was a familiar voice, so familiar that maybe it was a trick of the mind as Azriel took in a long breath. But he heard it again, a pinch louder and his name being called out as if the source was so far away.  Fighting through a fog that was thick and almost recognizable.

Azriel…Azriel…

Azriel was still asleep, but it was becoming more alert as the voice was getting a bit louder now in his mind. It was no longer a dream, it was something else, something familiar to him.  So familiar like coming through the front door of the small little cottage where he lived, or flying amongst the cloud with his wings stretched. Even the familiar touch of your lips against his own made him feel safe.

But he finally heard it, and his eyes shot open on high alert.

Azriel….I'm here…

It was you, your voice, speaking through the bond.

You were awake.

To Be Continued….

A/N - Part three?!?! Let me know if you want a part three!

Tagging - @valeridarkness @impossibelle @acourtofbatboydreams @prettylittlewrites @fxckmiup @sizzlingstarlightsky @iluvyewman-blog @masbt1218 @a-courtof-azriel @homeslices @zanzie @topaz125

[mementokore]

I'm not sure how many people know about ACOTAR and also play Destiny but I for sure do and found this gem in the game:

[ags-artnstuff]

Two of my favorite books from Sarah J Maas Acotar and Tog. Made some cute bookmarks for when I reread the series.

[thecatsaesthetics]

Me reading a ACOTAR series -

A Court of Thorns and Roses - wow an actual plot and a twist on beauty and the beast.

A Court of Mist and Fury - wow were actually going to deal with trauma and not ignore it. Rhys and Feyre are perfect for each other.

A Court of Wings and Ruins - what the fuck happened.

[azsazz]

Yay I can finally share these! You guys are the first to know about the ACOTAR travel postcards I designed that are officially licensed by SJM! 💙

This was literally such a fun project and I started this on my cross-country road trip and I cranked them out so fast. I loved every second of this and I do have a few more ideas for other places in the ACOTAR universe too.

Which one is your favorite? 😏

I'm going to be putting these up on my Etsy shop if you are interested in purchasing a postcard of them (just waiting on them to arrive to me).

[playcaroplay]

ACOSF Fanfic

A Knot in Time 

Part One: Elain grows a personality

Spoiler - Takes place after ACOSF. This is a long one. Sorry not Sorry. 

Rated - PG...For Now

Summary - Elain’s powers are starting to run her life and she recognizes that the only way to get control is by breaking out of her shell and stepping into something a little sassier. 

~*~

I’ll never forget something my dad said to me on my nineteenth birthday. In a startling moment of self awareness, he’d looked over his bowl of stew at me and said “You, Elain, have a rich inner life. I know that keeping up appearances was trained into you by your mother, but I know…. I know there’s a universe inside you.” 

I remember feeling a scalding cascade of emotions wash down my chest. I remember not understanding what it was about his comment that made me blush so deeply. He had looked me right in the eye, right into my soul and told me that he saw me. 

Nesta had scoffed, and that short sound held such derision that my blush quickly shifted from flattery to shame. I couldn’t look my dad in the eye the rest of the night. I couldn’t look anyone in the eye, as a matter of fact. 

To have a universe inside yourself suggests that there could be more to you than good manners, pleasantries or appropriate hobbies. To have a universe inside you suggests an endless, sprawling unknown. I’ve always liked that.

The fact that I have been completely and totally spoiled isn’t lost on me. The riverfront home that Feyre and Rhys built is a case study in sprawling but cozy architecture. I can see Feyre’s personality in every choice made in the construction and design of the home. 

High ceilings and wide generous windows. All couches, settees, chairs and pillows are double stuffed with down. The living spaces are designed with warm rich tones - deep emerald green curtains, walnut wood, cream throw blankets and black marble accents. I’m reminded of the woods near our old shack in the summer. Austere but approachable. But then, the master bedroom is lavished in the softest dove grey and oak wood furnishings that give you the distinct impression of a frosty snow peaked getaway. 

I can tell that a sense of openness and freedom are important to Feyre and Rhys. As if all the heaviness they endured in life could be warded off with a defiantly calm space. 

Even the kitchen and the gardens are a subtle testament to their love for me. I know it. I can tell by the types of flower beds they installed that are best suited to the flowers I like to grow. The kitchen is built like a heart: red tile backsplash, terracotta tiled floors, copper pots and deep blue cloth. The main working space in the kitchen is a wide pine counter in the centre of the room, paired with five stools. I can prepare dinner and still chat with whoever ventures in for a bite. I can be alone, while still in good company. This whole house is intended to tell the ones they love there is space here for you to just be. 

I know that they both suffer from nightmares, it’s nice to know I’m not alone. I’ve never had the courage to ask what they see, but after hearing about what Feyre has been through, I can easily guess. My nightmares have taken an odd turn lately. Usually my dreams are nonsensical layers of time and I stumble around in various stages of rage or confusion trying to make sense of it. 

Tonight my dreams have all clicked into focus. I hear a low persistent buzzing noise, and see a wall of silver ironwood trees. Standing in front of me is a figure, almost indistinguishable from the bark behind them. They seem to grow out of the soil, their legs merely a cluster of thick grass, and their torso and face crinkled with bark. But their eyes are a violent shade of orange with no pupils. 

My heart is hammering as I sleep, and its beats echo loudly in my dream. I want to scream, or run, or try to close my eyes, but the figure has pinned me to my spot. Their gaze is neither cruel nor kind. 

Daughter, you will find me. 

In the distance I hear faint musical notes, and when I wake up the simple tune sticks with me. I smell brine. I sit up in my bed and try to breathe deeply, but can’t find my lungs when I see the orange eyes staring at me at the foot of my bed. They start to get fuzzy and I blink hard to refocus my eyes.  

“Is your bed comfortable enough?” 

To my right, Feyre is perched on a kitchen stool balancing Nyx on her knee. 

“My bed?” I ask her. I turn back to the eyes and watch as they fade into empty space. 

“Elain?” 

I turn back to Feyre and find that I’m no longer in bed, but standing at the kitchen counter with a paring knife in my hand. 

“My bed?” I ask again. I look around the kitchen and see a pot boiling with water, and minced lamb meat sizzling in a pan next to it. It must be close to dinner. But when? 

I look back at Feyre and squint to see if any other versions of her peel off to other threads of time. But she’s solid. I’m present, then. But which day?

“You just look a bit tired and I was wondering if the new mattress is making you uncomfortable.” 

“I’m fine.” I say distractedly as I stare out the window. The weather looks to be the same as yesterday, so perhaps no time has passed. 

“Apple pwease.” Nyx’s greedy little fingers reach over the counter and beckon for the apple in my hand. I think I was peeling it for him. I finish cutting the skin off and cut it into small chunks for him to eat. The weight of the blue marble handle is a grounding comfort. I slide the plate over to him and he fists a few apple slices in both hands and begins to gnaw with his two teeth. Feyre helps herself to one of the slices and tries to send a secret look to Nuala who’s been prepping the sauce for the meat. Was she always here? She must have been if Feyre is sending out the Concerned But Not Prying look. 

“I’m fine. Truly. How are things going in the city?” I ask. 

Feyre winces and sends me an apologetic look. “They’re going well, but I thought I should warn you that Lucien is going to be visiting in a few days.” 

A bucket of ice drops into my stomach. Great. Him. All threads lead to the foxhole. 

“Is anyone else joining?” 

Feyre’s shoulders relax a bit, recognizing familiar territory. “Cas, Nesta, Amren, Mor and-” A sly look my way “Az.” 

An avalanche of icy dread dumps in my stomach. Suddenly I’m homesick for the nightmare instead of this moment. I haven’t seen Azriel since his steely rejection. I’m not sure what I hate more; the fact that I’ve not recovered from his blow off, or the fact that I still feel his fingers on my skin. 

I take a steadying breath. “Are you.. Holding the meeting here? Or at the House of Wind?” 

“Here.” 

I nod and pull a large bowl of proofing sourdough towards me. I lift off the cheese cloth protecting it and give the dough a swift punch. It deflates to the bottom and I begin to fold the sides in. With my left hand I take a handful of flour from a bag and sweep it across the surface in front of me. I splat the dough down and begin working it with my hands. Fold, smoosh, rotate. Kneading it feels therapeutic. 

The benefit of the house is that it’s large enough that I can easily avoid everyone if I’d like to. For the most part I’ve been allowed to exist in my cocoon of daily habits. I like them most because keeping a regular rhythm prevents all the endless threads of time from shredding in front of me. There’s only so many ways a rose bush can deviate in time, or food for that matter. Nuala and Cerridwen are so devoted to my little life line that as long as I keep myself tightly knotted to it, time doesn’t spill out.

It’s usually when I see everyone else that my world begins to get foggy. As Feyre sits across from me, trying to casually eat the apple while battling her temptation to ask me about Lucien or Azriel, I see other versions of her ripping away from the moment. They look like half made versions of her, like when you cross your eyes. They exist as ‘possible outcomes’ and so are not fully solid. 

I realize now that it’s been too long since I spoke, and Feyre was hoping for some sort of response. I don’t know what to say. All the things I feel are too big to put into words and I know that if I say anything she’ll meddle in a well meaning way. Still. I owe her something. 

“I can make a roast if you like.” Feyre deflates ever so slightly. I can tell that I’ve disappointed her. I wish she could see what it would mean for me to cook for them. To pour myself into making a meal that will satisfy everyone’s tastes, and then sit at the table and pretend for a few hours. Pretend that I don’t want to crawl out of my skin as I feel the continuous tug of the mating bond on my heart. 

I rotate the dough one last time and fold the sides in to create an oblong shape. I drop it into a bread pan and pull out a razor blade from a drawer. Gently, I sketch a single rose into the top of the dough, the tip of the razor cutting the surface just enough to create the image. When the dough cooks, the flower will be a delicious light tan colour while the rest of the loaf will be a deep golden brown. Feyre looks at me vacantly and I can tell she’s communicating with Rhys. I wonder if I have the same expression when I get lost in time. I hope not. 

“What’s it feel like to you? The bond between you and Rhys.” I ask. Feyre smiles inward and unconsciously places a hand on her chest, as if to pet the bond within. 

“I’m not sure how to describe it. It’s like an added instinct for your senses. An open channel to him. I can feel it within me, I can tug on it, or reach down to feel him. It’s like if you’re in the dark, and you reach for someone’s hand. No matter where you are, you know their hand will always be there.” 

Sounds nice. Sounds safe. Feyre glances at me shyly. “It’s like there’s a part of him that’s alive within me, that I can feel and nurture.” 

I take the loaf over to the oven and place it in. I’m excited to cut the steaming slices and arrange them in a basket with fresh butter. Cas always takes three or more slices, and I enjoy the satisfaction of a loaf well baked. 

“And you?”

I search within and try to sense what it feels like. A rope tied tightly around my ribcage, chafing and pulling me in an imperceptible direction. That aching need to move that doesn’t let up unless he’s here. And the relief from his presence makes me so nauseated I can barely focus. 

“Drowning. It feels like drowning.” 

I look back at Feyre and she nods sympathetically. I suppose she has an idea of what it’s like to be tied to someone like that. I feel a trickle of shame down my back. If the bond feels so good and safe to her, what’s wrong with mine that its existence chafes my soul? Aside from the person the other side of the bond is tied to, of course. 

Feyre opens her mouth to say more, but Rhys enters the kitchen and she snaps her mouth shut. Nyx spins around and raises his arms, his chubby sticky fingers grasping for Rhys who strides forward and picks him up. He extends his small wings to cover Rhys’ eyes. 

“Where dada?” Coos Nyx and swipes his wings away. Rhy’s face is contorted in a silly face that makes Nyx squeal in delight. 

Rhys looks over to me and smiles in greeting. I get an image in my mind’s eye of the stairwell leading to the bedrooms. The landing is bathed in moonlight and he’s standing there with his arms crossed. I blink again and Rhys has turned his attention to Feyre. 

They begin to talk about the upcoming meeting, but I’m distracted by Nyx. He’s staring up at me with larger than life eyes. They’re a violent shade of orange with no pupils. He raises his hand in a solemn salute. I grab the paring knife beside me and raise it off the table. 

Find me

“Who are you?” I ask. 

“Elain?” Rhys is by my side now, gently prying the knife out of my hand. “Gods, was this always ironwood?”

I look down and see that the marble handle of the paring knife is indeed ironwood now. Nyx is back to his usual self with another apple slice getting mushed into his mouth. Both Rhys and Feyre are alarmed and staring at the knife. 

“I didn’t do that.” I stammer. 

Rhys picks up the knife and examines it. 

“Elain are you alright? Who were you speaking to just now?” Asks Feyre. 

I lift my hand to point at Nyx, but he’s nowhere to be seen. “I was... “

“Oooh is that roast I smell?” Cassian booms as he enters the kitchen. Cerridwen emerges from my right and places a large roast on the counter, fresh from the oven. 

All around me I see half formed figures rushing about. My stomach jumps and I stagger. I can’t see any solid shapes in the room anymore and I search trying to find someone who’s actually present. I see Cerridwen and Nuala blurring around the kitchen preparing meals and cleaning up after them. They move in double time and no matter how hard I squint I can’t make them focus. 

Stop. Please stop. An intense pressure builds behind my eyes and forehead. My insides are a constant churn of power and my body can barely contain it. I slam my eyes shut and press the heel of my palms to my eyes. I’m moments away from exploding into fragments in time. Someone grips my upper arms and gives me a shake. 

“Elain. Focus.” 

I open my eyes and see Nesta’s icy gaze boring into me. Around her, everything has settled. The kitchen is mostly empty except for Nuala and Cerridwen, who are hovering close by with identical looks of concern. 

“What did you see?” 

Never one to be delicate, Nesta’s nails are dug deep in my skin. If I didn’t know her so well, I’d think she’s angry. What emanates from her is focused panic. 

“Nothing, I couldn’t see anything.” 

“Okay, what did you feel?” She presses. 

“I don’t know, I felt horrible. I felt pain, like I was being pulled apart.” 

“I felt something too.” She murmurs. I take a deep breath and step back from her. The roast is back on the counter top. Cerridwen is wearing a dark blue dress with a beaded flower pattern on the bodice. The beads are an array of turquoise and teal - it’s Wednesday then. Turquoise on Wednesdays. 

Which must mean that tonight’s roast is for the meeting. I’ve lost two days. 

“I’ve never lost so much time before.” I murmur. 

Nesta’s cold hand is on my cheek and she pushes my face to meet her eyes. “We need to get a handle on this, don’t we?” 

I nod weakly. The power within me feels like a gigantic wave, and I don’t really see how I can get a handle on it. It would be like trying to stop it with a plug. Ineffectual and useless. I note that I’m wearing a simple blue evening dress with my turquoise bracelet and I wonder what my body was doing while I was away. My hair is pulled back in a thick six strand braid. Must have been Nuala’s doing. 

“The others might want to talk about this. They’ve noticed you’ve been off, and with everything that’s happening with Koschei, it might all be tied together.” 

“There’s nothing useful about what’s within me.” I say. 

“But maybe it can be curbed.” Nesta grabs my hand and pulls me out of the kitchen and towards the dining room.

Everyone is standing around the table talking in small groups. Nesta enters the room first and sits down. Cassian follows quickly after, and like dominos everyone finds their seats. I realize that I have two options, and I have to decide quickly before I’m forced. I could either sit between Azriel and Mor, or Nesta and Lucien. I can barely look at either of them. Seeing Azriel in the room seems to suck all the air from my lungs. And Lucien sparks a deep repulsion in my belly. 

Today, I choose repulsion. At least I know how to handle that feeling. A small petty part of me wonders if Azriel would be jealous to see me sit next to my mate. I wonder if he feels ashamed  that I’d rather be near someone I can’t stand than him. 

I take a seat and try to ignore the look of surprise on Lucien’s face. I turn my shoulders towards Nesta only to find her mirroring his expression. “Now that was unexpected.” She whispers. 

I take a deep breath and slowly exhale. The tension in my chest melts away and the blasted bond within me hums happily. Isn’t this nice? It trills at me. From the corner of my eye, I see Lucien take a deep swig of his drink. Nesta is already filling my glass with a generous helping of wine. 

Rhys plunks down in his seat and right on cue Nuala and Cerridwen bring the food out. Everyone begins to help themselves. I like this part the most - for whatever reason, no one ever interrupts my dinners with new threads of time. I’d like to think they all like my cooking enough that even in dire circumstances they’d do me the courtesy of finishing their meal before they go off to save the world. Cassian pulls the bread basket towards him and helps himself to two slices. Azriel stabs a few slices of roast and slides them onto his plate. I pretend for a moment that he’s gripping his knife especially hard because he doesn’t like to see me seated next to Lucien. But even if that were the case, he gave up any right to feeling jealous months ago. 

“Have you decided how you’re going to conduct the search?” Mor asks Rhys. 

“Feyre, Lucien and I go east. Cas and Nesta go south.” He responds. His eyes flick towards me and instinctively I know they’re talking about the fourth item in the Dread Trove. 

“You could come with us.” Murmurs Nesta. She keeps her face neutral and doesn’t look at me. No one seems to have heard her offer. She sneaks a glance at me and already knows I will decline. I don’t know how to fight, I don’t know how to negotiate diplomacy. I don’t know how to seduce or manipulate. 

I think back to the night in the tents when I was taken. I had no defenses, my own power was completely useless in the face of that brutality. 

“I doubt I would be much help.” I reply. I poke the food around my plate. My appetite has disappeared. 

“I know what you mean.” She says. Surprised, I look over to her, and her gaze is soft. “The helplessness is overwhelming isn’t it.” 

I don’t want to cry at the table, so I just nod and stir the gravy around my plate. When I look back up I see Feyre looking on with a slight wrinkle between her brow. I hope she doesn’t say anything right now. Lucien hasn’t touched his food yet and I know that he’s heard. 

I shuffle around in my chair and wonder if I can excuse myself to go help organize dessert. I’m overwhelmed by exhaustion. My brain hurts from all these threads of time winding themselves around me and then spinning me out like a top. I rub my temples and blink hard a few times. I wonder if a bottle of wine would help settle all these threads for a night. I can hear a low hum undercutting the conversation. The same sound I heard in my nightmare. I think it’s going to start again. 

I feel a soft hand on my shoulder and I look up to see Nuala. “Can you help me with the ganache?” 

I heave a sigh of relief and stand up. For a moment my eyes catch with Azriel and he blinks at me. The same purposeful blink he’s given me before in acknowledgement. I see you. I guess he’s to thank for Nuala coming to my rescue. 

Lucien scoffs and it silences the table. No one moves. Azriel looks at Lucien evenly. 

“You think I don’t see what’s going on?” Asks Lucien. 

“And what’s going on?” Azriel fires back. 

“Az.” Rhys shoots a warning look his way. 

The humming gets louder and Azriel, Lucien and Rhysand begin to vibrate with different possibilities. Some after images jump up from the table and throw themselves at each other in a flurry of blood, knives and snarls. Others end in icy tension, and a violent promise for a later date. In one moment in time, Rhys mists Lucien in a desperate attempt to protect Feyre who gets caught in the fray. They all lead to the same outcome, either Lucien dies and Azriel is outcast from his family and war begins. Or Azriel dies and war begins. My heart is hammering and the buzzing is too loud to focus. 

“I see the looks you throw her way. I can sense how you feel about her.” 

Azriels chest rises and falls slowly and there’s a tautness in his mouth. Cassian and Nesta are sat up on the edge of their chairs, both prepping to throw themselves into the middle of the fight. Nesta’s threads always aim to protect me and push me back to the wall. Cassian varies between trying to hold Azriel back, and throwing himself at Lucien. Amren is always happily seated with her glass of blood. Feyre oscillates between focusing on Lucien and calming Rhys down, same with Mor. There’s no walking away from this room without blood being spilled, unless...

There could be a third choice. 

“Do you remember the first thing you said to me the night you took me?” I ask Lucien. For the first time since I came out of the cauldron I face him and look him dead in the eye. I can see the anger gutter away from him and be replaced with a bit of fear. 

“I…. I said that you should come with me.” “And when I hesitated, what did you say next?” My hands are shaking and there are waves of heat rolling through my body. Lucien looks down at his hands and grits his teeth. 

“I...I asked you..” “You asked me ‘do you feel that?’ and you were pointing to your heart. And I did. I did feel that. It was like someone had lit a fire within me. It was like my heart was gilded in gold. What did you say next?” 

The shame is unmistakable on his face. “I told you to trust that feeling. I told you to trust me.” 

“And I did.” 

The room is silent, but all eyes are resting on Lucien. Each glare is filled with varying shades of murder. But no one will move as long as I stay strong. Lucien is looking at me, his mouth slightly agape. He seems lost for words. The threads of time are starting to pull back in. I’m settling time back on one path. The one I’ve chosen. 

“You think you have a right to this bond?” 

He knows better than to argue. The room deflates and now everyone is looking at me. I can’t handle their sorrow. Their sympathy. Sweet Broken Elain. 

I pat my skirt down and take a deep breath. “I’m going to fetch dessert. The rest of you will get your heads out of your asses and focus on the real problem.” 

Nuala and I walk down the hallway to the kitchen. She loops her hand through my arm and gives me a squeeze. 

“Are you alright?” She asks. 

I sigh. “I think I’ve outgrown this.”

She smiles and says “Growth can be a good thing.” 

[parcai]

I'm so done with this fandom 😭

[nestareadssmut]

i made a thing....

[swifty-fox]

i guess im just gunna draw the entire Court of Dreams

[redheadspark]

Here (Part One)

Summary - Azriel's worst nightmare has come true: his mate is nearly killed.

Warnings - Mostly Angst in this one

A/N - This is part of the Ocean Eyes Series.

I wanted to write a two-part, or possibly a three-part of this idea I had in my head. I promise it won't be all angst, more like a hurt/comfort if you will! Please let me know in the comments if you wish to be tagged in the second and possibly third part of this piece :).

Part Two can be found Here

Part Three can be found Here

I hope you enjoy it.

Rage. All Azriel could think was rage. 

He pushed his way into the front doors of the River House, his mind reeling and his thoughts were focused on one being. Everything on his body was stiff, from the top of his neck down his backside to his feet that were pushing him to the main sitting room to the right.  Voices were heard, worried and angered voices that were mixed and the tension felt along the Shadowsinger. He was moving so fast that his own shadows were trying to catch up to him, warning him and coaxing him to be calm. But he was not calm. 

You were nearly killed.  His mate and wife were almost killed. He was seeing red.

He abruptly threw open the doors, seeing all who were present stop in their conversation and look at him as his wide eyes were filled with anger. Rhysand, Feyre, Nesta, and Cassian were all there in a semi-circle, horror was on their faces alongwith anger and festering wrath and outrage. But Azriel was not thinking about them, he was thinking about you and what happened.

What he felt in the bond.

"Where is she?" He asked in a low tone, not caring that the tone was a bite and his eyes were glaring at the Inner Circle. Each of them, directly in the eye, knowing fully well they wouldn't lie to them since it was Rhsyand who contacted him.Feyre, looking rather remorseful and on the verge of tears seeing Azriel like this, walks over to him with hesitance. His eyes locked with hers.

"Azriel.." She started, but Azriel's eyes snapped to her in such a way that it made Freyre freeze.

"Feyre," he said her name with such a bite that it seemed not himself, but he was not himself. Feyre's eyes widened in shock, the sound of his voice saying her name seemed lethal in a sense, he'd never spoken to her like that before. If it was any other circumstances, Azriel would have been chewed out by Rhsyand for the way he spoke to his High Lady. But Rhysand stayed quiet, inwardly knowing not to step on the Spymaster's toes at the moment. 

Feyre glided over to Azriel and took his fist in her hands, coaxing him to at least open his hand up to allow her to lace her fingers in his. Her bright eyes searched his, determination on her face, "Come with me, I'll take you to her."

Azriel followed willingly, knowing Feyre would guide him now as she led him out of the sitting room and up the stairs. All Azriel could think about was you, the pain he felt deep in the bond, and how that alone almost made him fall to his knees. He heard your scream, the piercing scream that sounded like your own soul was being sucked away from you. Azriel knew you could handle pain, he knew you weren't a pushover. You were tough as nails, one of the toughest Illryians Azriel has ever known. Not just tough in strength, but tough in spirit and in your soul. 

To feel that pain and hear it, Azriel had never been this scared in his long life.

Feyre ushered Azriel to one of the guest rooms, pushing the door open. Azriel froze at the sight in front of him, his heart plummeting in his chest and his blood going cold. There you were, passed out cold on your side in the middle of the massive bed that was right in the middle of the room.  You were stripped down to your undergarments, a thin sheen of sweat along your skin as you were clutching a massive body pillow in your arms and legs and your wings were sprawled out behind you. A massive red slash into your left wing, right along the bone from top to bottom, was seen and so visible to Azriel that he was fuming. Madja was perched on the bed, ointment was pressed into your wing and herbs were in vials next to her on the nightstand. 

Azriel saw your unconscious body, the pale skin tone that was clear evidence of blood loss, and even the shine in your hair was gone, it was like he was seeing a ghost. You seemed more like a shell, a hollowed shell of the being that Azriel knew and loved. After Feyre released Azriel's hand, Azriel walked over to kneel next to you to be nose-to-nose with you. He searched your face, the coolness in your cheeks, and the dark circles under your eyes.  Even the way you breathed while sleeping sounded uneasy, laboring really as Azriel tried to hold back his own tears.

His own worst nightmare came true right in front of his eyes: his mate being harmed and Azriel having no way of stopping or preventing it. He feared this for as long as you two were together, that something could happen to you because of who he was and what role he played for Night Court. But of course, you told him that nothing would happen to you, that he was too worried or paranoid. 

It was now a sick reality.

Azriel felt his heart breaking as he tentatively reached out and touched your bare arm that was on top of the body pillow, feeling how cold you were and the sweat still evident. You whimpered, still asleep and sounding like you were in insane pain as Azriel felt tears in his eyes. Tears for seeing his mate in such pain, tears for the rage he was trying to bury deep down.

Tears for the regret of not killing the very fae he had a hunch did this to his mate.

"She'll survive," Azriel's head snapped up at Madja, who was ringing out a blood-stained washcloth into a basin. Her face was solemn, but still calm as she took some more ointment along her fingers and reached over to place a generous coat of it along the open wound on your wings. You whimpered in pain, your face contorted as Azriel immediately rubbed your arms and nosed your hair lovingly. 

I'm here, baby. I'm right here, I got you with me. Stay with me, baby. Please, stay with me. I need you, I need you here with me.

Azriel was saying so many things through the bond, hoping and praying to The Cauldron that you could hear his voice as he kept talking to you inwardly. He wanted you to open your eyes and show you the brilliant blue orbs that he loved, he wanted to hear your laughter and voice to know that you were still breathing. 

You were there, but you seemed so far away.

"What happened?" Azriel finally asked, his voice raw from the tears as his fingers were still massaging your arms soothingly. His eyes went to Madja, who was giving him a serious look.  The stare-down was enough to have Feyre feel as though she was interrupting something, but Madja then jerked her head to the left. Azriel's eyes followed in that direction, seeing what she was he was directing him to stare at. His eyes went wide.

A singular Ash Arrow.

"The arrow sliced along her bone," Madja explained, getting up from the bed and walking over to the bowl where the arrow was sticking out. Water was inside stained red in blood and something darker, almost black. Azriel watched in silent anger as Madja took a spare cloth in her fingers to lift the arrow without her fingers touching the actual arrow itself. It was long, stained in your blood, and looked precise in design.

"It was an inch away from being fatal," Madja explained as she showed the arrow to Azriel, "Your mate was lucky to have been fast enough to not have it be fatal to her. But the poison in the arrow is doubled compared to other ash arrows I've dealt with in the past."

Azriel felt his shadows flicker against his sides in anger from what he heard as he spoke low, "Doubled?"

"Whoever shot this arrow, had all the intentions in killing your mate, and making it painful," Madja explained, Azriel's eyes darting to her as well as Feyre's. Though she was still at the doorway into the guest room, she could see all that Azriel was reacting to. She felt it in the air and sensed it, she too also hated seeing you nearly on death's door and so close to leaving this world.  Azriel was happy with you, immensely happy, and to think of you leaving him and your son in this world without you there would break her heart.

"I spoke to your High Lord and High Lady about her condition and what needs to be done for her to recover back to full health," Madja explained thoroughly as she dropped the arrow back into the bowl with a splash, making her way back to her work station, "Your mate needs to stay here to fully heal. Her wings are tender and delicate now, any movement will make the poison spread,"

"It's still in her?" Azriel asked hoarsely, almost in pain himself. Feyre moved then, no longer being able to stay in her spot away from her friend as he was grieving for his wife. Standing behind him, she placed a hand on his shoulder, his shadows licking her fingers and palm as a silent way to thank her. Somehow, Feyre felt it too, watching Madja as she was packing some of her things.

"The poison is minimal and tolerable for now, I took most of it out. It's up to your mate and her willpower for the poison to evaporate within the next day or two, in fact, it's critical. Which is why she needs to stay here and let the medicine and her Illryian strength do the work to get herself back on her feet," Madja informed Azriel and Feyre, clutching her bag as she stood by the bed. 

"She'll be safe here, Az," Feyre softly said to Azriel behind him, Azriel heard the softness in her tone as she spoke again, "She'll stay here at River House for as long as she needs to."

"I'll come by tonight and check on her, and from then on I'll come daily. For now, she needs rest, peace, and quiet," Madja explained, taking in a long breath as she gave Azriel a soft bow, "I'm sorry for this, Shadowsinger.  This is no easy thing to conquer. But I stand by what I said when she brought your son into the world: your mate is strong. One of the strongest female Illryians I have ever met in my life. You must have faith that she'll make it out alive, it is vital not just for her, but for you."

Azriel drank in all she said as she walked out of the room, closing the door behind her to leave Azriel and Feyre in the room. There was silence for a moment or two, the only sound that was heard was Azriel's labored breathing and the slightly opened window near the bed. He looked at you again, feeling his world falling apart all over as he attempted to hide his tears. But Feyre caught on and wrapped an arm around his shoulders to hug him from behind. The tears fell, and Azriel squinted in pain as he rested his head on the mattress, though still asleep and not realizing that your mate was breaking.

"She's right here, Az. She's right here alive with us okay?" Feyre said to him as she hugged him tight.

"I failed her," He moaned into the mattress, Feyre shaking her head as he sobbed, "I swore to protect her and keep her safe when we got together. It's my fault—"

"Don't do that! Don't say that Azriel.  This was not your fault, do you hear me?" Feyre reassured Azriel. Azriel clung onto Feyre, still crying into the sheets and feeling as though you were slipping away without him being able to cling to you. But the fact that Feyre was there, holding him close and telling him that you were alive, it was a small sliver of hope for him to hold onto. So many things were flooding in his mind: Who shot the arrow? Who was in charge of this attack? Why would you be the target? 

Who did Azriel need to hunt down and kill?

"She's going to stay here, perfectly safe, and I will make sure she is comfortable, Azriel. You have my word," Feyre promised Azriel as he lifted his head from the mattress, shoving his tears away aggressively with his fingers.

"Are you saying that as my High Lady?" Azriel asked, not meaning to sound bitter about it but his voice sounded it. Feyre hummed, moving to kneel next to Azriel so he could see the love in her eyes and sincerity. He adored that about Feyre, how kind she was even after all she went through as a human, and how she saved Prythian from Kind Hybern. She was still kind, still gentle in her heart though fierce when she needed to be. But the one thing that made her strong was her fierce friendships, how she held her friends close and would never let them go.

Like now.

"I'm saying that as your friend and someone who loves you," She replied softly, trying not to cry herself as she gave Azriel a soft smile, "Nothing is going to happen to her here, and you are more than welcome to be here with her while she gets better. Your family is our family too Az,"

Azriel panicked, thinking about the one member of the family who would be affected. 

"But what about Alec? Oh, Alec," Azriel panicked again, his son was now on his mind. What was his son going to think when he heard about his mother? What was Azriel going to say? His son was far too young for this chaotic world that was filled with hate and pain. Being only 4 years old, Alec was still so innocent and so kind, just like his mother.

"He's at school with Nyx right now, and he can stay here with you too," Feyre said to him calmly, seeing his panic, "I'll make up the guest room across the way for you two to sleep in while—"

"I'm staying in here with her," Azriel said to Feyre as he looked back at you, seeing you shift slightly and cling onto the pillow some more, the pain was less evident on your face as Azriel spoke again, "Alec can use the spare room, he can sleep with Nyx if he wants. But I'm not leaving her side, Feyre. Never again,"

Feyre must have sensed it would be a losing argument on her end when it came to trying to persuade Azriel into anything else.  But she would have done the same if it was Rhsyand there on the bed, even knowing fully well Rhsyand would do the same if Feyre was the one wounded and near death.

With a singular kiss to the top of his head, Feyre squeezed his arm a pinch, "I'm going to make you some food so you can eat in here. We're all downstairs if you need anything, but just stay here and be with her. Nesta will pick up Alec from school and bring him here, don't worry about him right now, we'll take care of him. You focus on your mate,"

Azriel gave her a soft nod, feeling the love she had and the warmth that Feyre could only produce sink into him. Although he felt like he was alone on an island, he wasn't truly alone. Not with the Inner Circle behind his family to care for them and to rally around him in this time.

"Thank you, Feyre," He thanked her, and as she walked out of the room to give him time with you, Azriel felt defeated. He took a chair to bring over to be at your side, then opened a window or two to bring in the fresh air, and then sat in the chair to watch you sleep. Not just sleep, but heal.

Even after hearing from both Madja and Feyre that you were strong enough to make it, Azriel couldn't just rely on hope. He felt hopeless in not being able to do anything, be anything, to bring you back. To wake you up and shine your blue eyes on him, to laugh again and fill the air with your bell of a laugh, and for you to smile and outshine any gem imaginable. 

Rhysand needed his cousin, Alec needed his mother, but Azriel most of all needed his mate. 

As you slept, Azriel was thinking over all the pieces of this complicated puzzle that needed to be placed together. He wanted to search every inch of every Court to find the very being that nearly killed you and almost took you away from him. He wished to find whoever was responsible and inflict so much pain in their life that they would beg for mercy. Any torture he inflicted in the past, he would surpass it. 

But for now, for now he simply wished for you to wake up again.

To Be Continued….

A/N -Once again, let me know in the comments if you wish to be tagged for Part Two and Possibly Part Three!

Thanks for reading!

Tagging - @valeridarkness @impossibelle @acourtofbatboydreams @prettylittlewrites @fxckmiup

[luzosuna]

Nessian Song

(The art isn't mine)

[akb12348]

This is honestly how I spent my birthday and valentines day

[devious--intentions]

Maybe a teaser?

Authors note: Thanks to my Kayla Darling - for helping me create this work. Love you

Andrei

Sounds of the dying rose above the cascading waves that rippled off of the shores of Lyraz. The heat meddled with the stench, filling every nostril that flared in its presence with death and blood. Truly, Lyraz' glory had fallen into a pit of darkness, where bodies laid on the cold sand and rocks that perked into great mountains.

But Andrei was focused on the dying sky, filled with the last embers of daylight - and the billowing smoke rising from the destruction. From the war that threatened and held Lyraz in a tight grip for so long. Had it not been for the retaliation, for his younger brothers smooth talking, none of this would have been possible. An absent thought that fell onto deaf ears, as dull grey stared distantly at the horizon from where he laid.

Pinks and oranges collided with one another in an endless war - the battle that the sun undertook in it's own mindless journey to stay awake. Clouds of black rose to grace such a perfect image with hints of destruction - of corruption. For not even this image was free from the clutches of the Governments hands. But the sight, it was enough to ignore the pain that surged through his muscles and nerves, and truly admire what they—He was fighting for.

For freedom. For his life.

Andrei sunk in the beige sand that was drenched in the blood of Fae and Human alike. A battle of nerve and steel, of bullets and will, and they had won. The tightness of his throat could've been ignored, if Andrei decided to let the dying light absorb him. If he let go. Lyraz was reclaimed. His battle, for his mother, was won.

But the war was not. Not yet. Andrei still had work to do.

Pain shot through Andrei's nerves as he pushed himself up to sit. Tearing his sight away from the peaceful, dying light to look at the battlefield he once fought on. Having to lean against one of the corpses - A government trooper corpse, to help him remain steady. Even as his muscles told him to lay back down; Even as his heavy eyelids opted to wanting to close. To slip away with the many bodies surrounding him.

Battlefield? This was a graveyard.

The entire beach was littered with bodies, the sea sweeping in to claim a few of them. Washing them away into the bottomless depths it held, as if cooing them into their endless slumber. Comforting them in their final moments. For both Fae-Kind and Human alike.

Perhaps that fate was worthwhile. And Andrei dreamed of how he would want his remains to be ushered as he wandered to the Cauldron as a battle hardened soldier.

But today wasn't the day.

Clawing himself to a standing position, Andrei almost toppled over his own two legs. Though after a few steadying breathes, his body began to heal from the wounds that swept through him. Boy, did bullets sting.

And thus, the reason behind his nickname - A lone Raven standing in the middle of carnage and death. He inhaled deep, only for a voice to utter in his mind. His brothers voice. Relief washed over him.

'Brother, if you can still hear me...Meet me at the Darkened. I have another task for you, and it is the most urgent. Please...Come home safe.'

And this, was how Ruadhan became King of Lyraz. Not because he fought.

But because Andrei ushered him into power.

————

Andrei

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He wasn't stupid - he could hear the hidden words behind Marcurius' tone. But the details of such an alliance was not discussed, and the High-Fae bowed like a mere peasant. Against his brothers orders, the new King of Lyraz, but they needed all the help they can get. And against the Government, against their oppressors and so many more, this was no time to be choosy.

Oh, how he wished he had the moments to breathe a retort. Leave a scratch? Please, Andrei wouldnt settle for a scratch. He'd tear into the High-Lord and anoint a new one to take his place. Perhaps a high lady, if his assumptions were true about the girl, who was beaten and bruised just behind the High-Lord.

And then a bone snapped. And the bastard didn't know what took over him. He was far too quick, far too rash, but he needed to put this High-Lord in his place. Any power he thinks he has, was stripped away the moment he promised his life to his brother, Ruadhan - who would probably curse him for his soft heart and future planning.

He was on Marcurius before the shadows from the dying sky even shifted into place for his movement. Swift and quick though he might've been, Andrei was quicker. Two broad hands grasped the High-Lords arm. One at his elbow, one at the top of his shoulder. And with a sudden, rough twist back - It was a mixture of tearing muscle and breaking his entire arm out of his socket. He almost - should've - tore his arm completely off. But a one armed High-Lord is none at all.

Holding his arm in the broken position, Andrei pushed. Forcing him to either fall flat onto his face, or slouch his body forward - as if praying, or kneeling before royalty. Before Alwyn.

"You dare do something like that in front of me again, I'll tear your arm completely out of its socket and feed it to the Attors. You're weak and pathetic. You are expendable. You harm her, or anyone else, I'll have you replaced.—

—Is that understood, Marcurius?"

His eyes were daggers against the back of the High-Lord's head. And for a moment, if any took a glance at Andrei, he almost seemed startled by his own words and actions. After his speech was done, he pushed, and shoved the High-Lord away. Eyes soft and innocent.

"You best be careful, High-Lord. We don't want you to lose an arm, now do we?"

He purred like a cat into the air, before he tore his attention away from him. His grey orbs were now on the girl - he knew the pain of having a wing bone being snapped, it was truly painful. And not something he enjoyed the sight of, being part Seraphim himself.

And in that instant, he had no idea what to do. He looked to the Guards in the room, the servants, anyone. What does he do?

[bronson]

I didn’t know how long my sisters and I lay there together, just like we had once shared that carved bed in that dilapidated cottage. Then—back then, we had kicked and twisted and fought for any bit of space, any breathing room.

But that morning, as the sun rose over the world, we held tight. And did not let go.

[azsazz]

Pack Mentality

Azriel x Cassian x Rhysand x Reader

Summary: As requested by a few different anons...You're in heat and it's so insufferable that all three bat boys see you through it.

Warnings: SMUT!!! 🥵 Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics.

Word Count: 5,351

Notes: Um...so this might have gotten a little out of hand.

_________________________________________

You’re not entirely sure how you got to this point, Rhysand fucking deep into you while Azriel and Cassian watch, cocks stiff in their own hands.

Only that you do, and you’ve never been more thankful for a heat in your entire life.

Through the writhing and whining haze of your heat, desperately needing an alpha to knot you, the three Illyrians you’d been friends with for so long had debated over who was going to help see you through your heat. Their brotherly bickering was taking too long and you were too distraught, your hormones going crazy, that you’d suggested all three of them take care of you.

Suggested was a light term, begging was more correct.

Cassian shoves into Rhysands shoulder roughly, jolting the future High Lord from your soaking cunt before his knot locks the two of you together. Jealous prick. The violet eyed male shoots the warlord a look that makes you shudder with arousal as he hisses, snapping at the warlord's shoulder with sharp teeth but Cassian doesn’t even spare him a glance, utterly consumed by pushing his neglected cock into your dripping hole. Rhys grips the tip of his own prick as his knot fully forms, gasping and curling in on himself, muscles pulled taut.

You give the Night Court heir a gentle caress to his forearm with a choked moan as Cassian’s hips meet yours. Rhys sends you a forced smile as his cock continues to spurt in his hand, taking yours in his other to intertwine your fingers, holding onto you tightly.

Azriel, still pressing soft kisses to your forehead, gentle as ever, sees his future High Lord in need and offers him a helping hand, literally. His assistance eases the pain for Rhys slightly, his knot misinterpreting his shadowsingers hand for your cunt as it pulses, thick ribbons soiling the bedding.

The two of them will be occupied until Rhys’ knot shrinks, just like Cassian had wanted. A jealous male through and through, he can’t even share with his brothers.

You didn’t know you could stretch further but it's happening as the alpha slowly shoves his way in, then pulls out at the same pace, biting his lip harshly. The scent of blood stings your nostrils in the most delicious way and you swirl your hips, encouraging him to start moving.

“Cass,” you gasp, arching off of the bed as he slides in a touch faster. Your slick coats his prick and drips down your legs onto the sheets below, the air heavy with your sweet scent, driving the males into a frenzy.

He pounds into you mercilessly, and you let out a cry of pleasure when he hits the bundle of nerves inside of you that makes you see stars and your head spin. 

There’s no thoughts in your mind as he pounds into you. You feel too fucking good to be worrying about Rhysand’s unbound knot or Azriel waiting patiently for his turn. Right now it’s you and Cassian and Cassian’s enormous cock splitting you in two.

He hooks his hands beneath your knees, pinning your legs to your chest and Gods you didn’t know it could feel any better but it does and you’re on the verge of unraveling beneath him.

Rhysand’s knot must have shrunk because Azriel’s placing his palm in front of your mouth, dripping with come. The scent of it drives you mad and you need to be knotted, it hurts so bad. The tease of the heir’s forming knot had nearly sent you over the edge, your pussy clenching, trying so hard to hold onto it before Cassian had pushed him away.

“Knot me,” you whine, licking the spymaster's palm fiercely. Azriel watches intently, his own dick twitching at the feeling of your tongue lapping at his marred skin. His hazel eyes gleam with lust as you slurp his brother's seed from his hand.

Cassian curses, holding your hips with a bruising grip as he pounds into you with abandon. Rhysand latches onto your nipple, licking and suckling at the pebbled nub, pinching and twisting the other. You shove your hand into his hair, fisting the midnight locks which spurs the alpha on. Azriel shoves his fingers into your mouth and you gag, but it shifts into a moan as you feel the warlord's knot forming, growing and brushing against your walls while he plays with your clit.

It’s too much, it’s all too fucking much, you need to be knotted, claimed, by any of them, by all three of them. You twist your head to the side, exposing your neck and you’re sure you hear them moan at your desperate display.

Azriel noses at the column of your throat as Cassian’s knot forms, his guttural moan causing the other two alphas to be on alert, the hair at the napes of their necks standing at attention because of the one who’s trying to assert his dominance. 

They might tear each other apart before the night is over.

The shadowsinger’s nearly drooling at your sweet scent and he lets his teeth graze over the delicate skin, pushing you over the edge into your own orgasm, milking the come from Cassian’s cock. He’s pulsing hot inside of you, the two of you locked together until his knot shrinks, and right now you’re hoping that it never does.

You can feel yourself falling into your omega space, reveling at the feeling of an alpha spilling into you, your pussy convulsing around his cock, his hot seed trapped inside of you. It’s utter bliss and you don’t feel like you have to worry about the three possessive alphas latched onto you. Their scents mix together and you let your body go lax into the bed, eyes falling shut. They smell like home and you feel protected, like nothing can get to you as long as you have your alphas.

__________

When you wake you’re no longer connected to Cassian. You’re feeling hot, writhing and whimpering in the bed because even though you’ve gotten knotted your heat is still at its peak and you need to be filled again, immediately.

But Azriel’s not having it, holding you close to his chest. His willpower is immaculate, letting you lean into his side as he forces you to drink and eat while you pout and try to rut against him.

“Please, Az,” you mewl, “It’s unbearable.”

“I know baby,” he whispers, giving in and pressing a firm kiss to your lips, “But you need to eat, keep your energy.”

“I don’t want to,” you huff, snaking your hand down to your clit. If he won’t help you you’ll just have to do it yourself.

He smirks, watching as you do just that. He’s toying with you. He knows you won’t be able to get off the way that you want by yourself, won’t be able to recreate the feeling of a thick knot deep inside of you, and after you drag an orgasm from yourself you collapse against him, begrudgingly eating the food he holds to your lips.

Your climax has sated you slightly, enough to finish your meal, gulping down a few hearty sips of water from the glass he’s handed over.

“Where are Rhys and Cass?” you ask, wiping an escaped drop of water from your mouth. You don’t really care, having one alpha here with you is better than having to go through your heat alone, and you know that Azriel can more than handle himself in the bedroom if the size of his wings are anything to go by, but having the three of them here makes you feel completely at ease.

“Fighting out in the yard,” he replies with a shrug at your concerned glance. He kisses the frown from your lips, and your breath catches in your throat as he makes his way down your body, settling himself between your legs, licking his lips at the sight of your dripping core.

His eyes flick up to yours and the slash of a smirk on his face has your cunt throbbing. “Rhys wasn’t too pleased about Cass pushing him off of you. Now that you’re awake and casting your hormones to the entire camp, I’m sure they’ll be joining us sooner than later.”

The ever so quiet alpha knows how to use his voice when he needs to, but now, dipping down for his first taste, burying himself into your wet pussy, his skilled tongue flicking against your clit, he’s saying everything that he needs to just by his actions.

“Uh, Az,” you moan, threading your fingers through his hair and holding him in place, jerking your hips against his mouth, chasing that orgasm that seems to be constantly looming. “Right there, yeah, I’m going to come!”

With a cry of pleasure you topple over the edge, panting as you try and catch your breath, head hazy from the shadowsingers wicked tongue.

The alpha doesn’t give you time to relax your thrumming heart because he’s pushing deep into you, so deep that it presses all of the air from your lungs, your fingers scrambling to grab onto him in any way possible.

He towers over you, wings splayed wide in a display of pure dominance leaves you shivering, keening for him to move. All you want to do is submit to him; you’ll do anything for this male above you, in any capacity he wants.

“I could fucking mate you right now,” he growls, licking a fat stripe against the juncture of your neck where he thinks his bite would look the best, “Just fucking clamp down and claim you.”

“Yes, please,” you drag your nails down his back, spine curving up to press into his muscular body. That sounds like utter heaven, being his.

“But that wouldn’t be fair, would it?” His question is a growl in your ear that has you trembling to your very core. He jerks his hips once and you gasp at the feeling, some of your slick slipping out as he moves back.

You wonder if Cassian’s come is still inside of you, and the thought makes you clench around him, body quivering. You’re not sated yet, won’t be for days to come, when your heat breaks. They’ll all get their turns, filling you up with their seed.

You want them all to breed you. You can picture it now as Azriel thrusts his hips. Your belly swollen with a pup. Any one of them would be an amazing father, and you know that they wouldn’t treat the babe as anything but their own. 

Could you actually have all three?

“Want–” you pant, words swallowed by a moan. The door to the bedroom opens and the two missing males of your party arrive, skin smelling of salt and blood and power. The pair strip out of their clothes hastily, not wanting to waste a mere second without you again, jealous that Azriel’s got his dick nestled inside your perfect little cunt.

“What’s that you want?” Rhysand whispers, climbing up onto the bed and kissing you passionately on the mouth, a hand in your hair to keep you still, having caught the first word of your plea.

Cassian assesses for a second – trying to figure out the best spot to wedge himself – to get as close to you as he can. He opts for lying against you, pressing himself flush to your side, body hot and tender from the brawl with his brother.

“Want you all to mate me, claim me, breed me,” you beg and the three alphas groan in unison, Azriel’s knot forming at your words, pouring into you. Rhysand’s cock throbs in his hand again and he presses his forehead harshly against yours, taking calming breaths so he doesn’t orgasm again, his heavy breath cool against your dewy skin. Cassian ruts against you with a grunt. He needs to come again, preferably inside of you.

“(Y/N),” Rhysand’s shuddered whimper of your name ignites that feeling inside of you, your cunt convulsing around Azriel’s prick as he’s nestled inside of you. He chokes on the moan threatening to spill from his lips, planting his hands on your hips harshly to keep you from writhing.

“Please,” you cry, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck, forcing him to look at you while he tries to pull away. You lock your legs around the shadowsingers hips although he isn’t going anywhere and loop your arm around Cassian, keeping him pulled tight to your chest.

“You’re just saying this because of your heat, Darling,” Rhysand’s voice is soft, sad, like he wishes that you could really mean the words. “If we did that you’d be regretting it as soon as your heat breaks.”

“No,” you protest, shaking your head slightly, mouth dropping open in bliss as Azriel’s cock twitches inside of you. Unfortunate timing, but through the hazy lust you’re feeling and the undeniable feeling to succumb to your omega nature is the truth. You love all three of these males. “I won’t.”

Cassian, who’s rubbing your stomach soothingly, looks like he might just bite you anyways, fuck the pact he’s made with his brothers. Here you are, begging for all three of them, whiny and needy and craving their seed in you. He can hardly control himself around you when you’re not on your cycle, but now that he’s had a taste, he’ll never let you go.

Az and Rhys share a look, having a conversation through each other’s minds as Cassain catches your mouth with his, distracting the both of you. It’s all he can do to not clamp down on your already bruised neck and mark you.

The spymaster’s knot loosens and you gasp into Cass’ mouth when he slips out of you.

“We’ll discuss it when your heat ends,” is what Rhysand tells you and you huff. You want to throw a tantrum at his words but Cassian’s pulling you closer to his side, his warmth enveloping you in a gloriously comfortable hug. You let your eyes drift closed as he murmurs softly into your hair, telling you to rest while you can.

You’re sure they’re going to talk it over while you sleep but you can’t help yourself, nuzzling into his neck and breathing in the familiar scent of the alpha as you drift off.

__________

It must be the middle of the night when you become desperate again. The three alphas are asleep and you’re still curled in Cassian’s embrace, his slight snoring rumbling through you to your bones.

Rhys is pressed up behind you, wings nowhere in sight with the spymaster behind him, laying on his back, shadows trailing lazily throughout the room. It’s nearly pitch black, the glow of the moon drifting in through the sliver between the curtains.

You want him, oh Gods do you want him. The tease of his knot when Cassian pushed him off of you was not enough, you need to feel that powerful cock pulsing inside of you right this second.

You straddle across his hips, whimpering and grinding against him, giving him kitten licks across his neck. You’re soaked, slick coating the apex of your thighs and you just know that the spot where you'd been lying is sopping wet.

“Rhys,” you plead, swirling your hips again. He’s rock solid against you, groaning sleepily as he blinks the sleep from his eyes, his hands automatically caressing your sides.

“(Y/N)?” he slurs, clearing the grogginess from his throat, “Need m’knot?”

“Yes please,” you sniffle, nosing at the column of his throat and running your fingers through his hair desperately. The texture of his soft locks feels incredible against your sensitive skin.

“Go on Darling, take what you need.”

You sink down onto his thick cock without hesitance and Rhys groans quietly as you begin to ride him with fervor, bouncing up and down on his length, swirling your hips. Your back arches and you let a loud moan slip out when you get that perfect angle, the male beneath you palming at your breasts.

The noises and movements rouse the other two alphas from their slumbers, dicks thick and heavy and dripping at the sight of you riding their brother.

Azriel is up and behind you in an instant, whispering in your ear and pressing featherlight kisses to your skin, asking if you can take two cocks shoved up inside your pretty pink pussy.

You nearly scream at his words, craning your head around to capture his filthy mouth with yours, teeth clacking as you fiercely kiss. The shadowsingers hand snakes around your front to your clit, flicking furiously at the nub as you grind down on Rhys.

You come on Rhys’ cock with a cry that’s swallowed by the alpha behind you. Your hips slow against the Night Court heir who grabs your thighs like he’s going to plant his feet and start jackknifing into you because he’s that desperate.

Az places a hand to your spine and you arch under his touch, shivering as his cock teases your hole, before he shoves it right beside Rhysands, the three of you moaning in pleasure.

You collapse against the alphas chest, utterly blissed out on both of their huge pricks as Azriel starts moving, sliding against Rhy’s dick and your walls. Your fingers fist the sheets, the feeling of both of them filling you up has you seeing stars, but it’s still not quite enough, you need more.

And the childish whimper of being left out from the largest of the three alphas has you taking his cock in your hand, sliding it up and down the silky shaft, thumbing at the beading precome at the tip and slicking your way down.

When you catch your breath you struggle to lift yourself from Rhys’ chest, arms shaking, trembling as you rise, looking up at Cassian through your fluttering eyelashes.

You mouth at the head of Cassian’s enormous prick, sucking at the tip before swallowing the alpha down as far as you can.

Your mouth is wicked, wrapped around him, your moans going straight through his dick. He gasps at the feeling of you tonguing your way down his cock, the head of his prick inching further and further down your hot throat as you take him in.

This, this is what you wanted, feeling full to the brim, your three alphas taking care of you through your heat. If they couldn’t see how perfect you all are together they had to be crazy.

Every thrust from Azriel has you sliding further down Cassian’s shaft, choking on him. The delicious, wet sounds of his dick squelching in your throat and the other two in your dripping cunt have them all on edge, ready to come at any second.

“Ah, fuck,” Cassian hisses, pulling out and gripping the base of his dick harshly, squeezing his eyes shut. He can’t come, doesn’t want his knot to form if it’s not inside of you. It had happened once before and it was not something he wanted to relive, ever.

He might be feeling slightly bad for doing it to Rhys earlier.

Azriel and Rhysand fuck into your with abandon and it’s euphoric, being sandwiched between the two powerful alphas as they get off. Their knots form fast, sensitive and sliding up against each other, against your walls, your slick making everything so messy, so pleasurable.

Rhysand comes first, locking himself into you with a loud bark of a moan, eyes rolling back in his head as Az overstimulates him, still thrusting.

The shadowsinger kisses down your neck, shoving his forming knot up into you as far as he can with Rhysands cock stuffed into you, bursting in you with a strangled cry.

__________

Your heat breaks three days later.

You’re utterly exhausted, draping yourself across whichever alpha is closest, letting them thread their fingers through your hair and hold you close, reveling in the scent of their seed on you, soon to be washed off until your next heat.

You force yourself to clean up, standing from the bed early in the morning while the three males are still fast asleep. You yawn, stretching your arms over your head as you make your way to the washroom, swearing you can still feel days worth of come seeping out of you.

Good thing you are on the tonic.

You take your time, relaxing in the hot water with your eyes closed, letting your muscles loosen from the week of activity. It was everything you could’ve asked for and more, the three alphas sharing you, giving you everything you needed while only fighting with each other on a few occasions.

A lazy smile crosses your lips, Possessive alphas.

It’s Azriel who finds you first, no doubt his shadows alerting him that you were no longer in the bed with them. He’d rolled over and draped an arm across Cassian’s broad shoulders instead of you, pulling back with a faint dust of pink on his lips when he realized.

He washes you carefully, those skilled fingers taking their time, caressing your aching body softly. Maybe you’ll convince the spymaster to give you a massage later, after you’ve eaten and hydrated a bit more.

And maybe they’d let you take a walk, smelling like their individual scents: cedar and smoke, earth and wind, and sea and citrus. They wouldn’t let you go alone, no way would these overprotective bats let you wander the camp alone. They’d go with you, flaring their wings and glaring at any other male who set their sights on you.

But you are not theirs, and they are not yours.

The words that had slipped from your mouth during your heat were still at the forefront of your mind. You want them, all of them, so badly that it makes your stomach twist with fear. What if they didn’t want you or weren’t willing to share? Rhys said that you would all discuss it, but when?

Az helps you from the tub once he’s deemed you clean enough, wrapping you up in a large towel and sending you off with a kiss to your forehead so you can get dressed while he bathes next.

Stomach growling, you shove yourself into something comfortable. You’ll change if they decide to let you out of the house, your hormones still seeping from your pores on your first day off of your heat.

You begin working on breakfast, an idea forming in your mind.

One by one they lazily trek into the room. First, a freshly showered Azriel, who pressed up behind you with a kiss to your cheek, murmuring if you’d like any help. You smile gratefully but decline his offer, telling him to take a seat and that breakfast will be ready shortly.

Next comes Cassian, hair disheveled and not yet bathed, too hungry to do anything other than follow the smell of food, stealing a piece of meat on his way by and stopping your protest with his lips against your own.

Finally, after taking his time in the bath comes Rhysand, dressed to the nines as always. He’s brushing his arms from the invisible lint no doubt and he greets you with a dazzling smile and a wet kiss to your throat.

Maybe he hadn’t forgotten afterall.

Placing each of their plates down in front of them you take a step away, trying to calm your breathing. None of the three alphas touch their food, sensing the emotion in the air, looking towards you with worried eyes and furrowed brows. 

“What is it, Darling?”

“Are you okay, sweetheart?”

“What’s going on, baby?”

You flush at their worried questioning, heart thundering in your chest so loudly you’re sure the entire camp can hear it, smell exactly how nervous you are.

“Um, I know it may not be the bond, but it’s still a bond of its own, and I know I feel it with the three of you. Will you have me?” You blurt, gesturing to the full plates in front of each of the alpha males. You refuse to look up at them, worrying your lip between your teeth as you await their responses.

“Oh, (Y/N), Darling,” Rhys smiles up at you, violet eyes sparkling like the night sky, “It is the bond, can’t you feel it?”

You twist your fingers nervously. That’s what that was? You had felt it during your heat but you’d been too overstimulated with pleasure and instinct that you hadn’t been able to differentiate the two.

“But you said–”

“I said that because I didn’t want you to make the decision based on impulse,” he slides from his seat, caressing your cheek with his hand as he gently tilts your face to look up at him. “You’re ours, (Y/N). If you’ll have us.”

You try to bite back the smile creeping to your lips but you can’t. Azriel and Cassian stand, flanking Rhysand on either side, peering down at you with twin smiles.

“Will I have you?” you laugh, utter joy bursting in your chest, reverberating in each of their chests. “Of course I’ll have you! How many times do you need to hear it, alpha?”

The heir goans, heat sparking low in his groin. He’ll never stop needing to hear it, you moaning his name, the feelings you let pulse freely down the bond.

His brother’s too, catching the arousing scent wafting from you. Their pupils widen, eyes darkening at the thought.

As much as you’d like to take this back into the bedroom, you’re sore, tired, and hungry. Your stomach growls, breaking the lustful tension into something more relaxed. Rhys leads you to a spot at the table and you watch as they each stare down at their plates, then at you, tender and in love.

Each of them accepts your offer, taking a bite of their breakfasts.

You can feel the air sparking as you eat, the silent breakfast filled with anticipation for what’s to come. Cassian’s leg won’t stop shaking beneath the table, Az’s shadows keep twitching around him, and the fork in Rhys’ hand keeps twirling in circles nervously.

It’s too much, you can’t finish your food. Setting your fork down on your half eaten plate you offer with an erratic heart, “Ready?”

You puff a breath of laughter as the three males shoot up from their chairs, ushering you into the bedroom you’d all locked yourself in for the past week. The sheets are fresh but the smell of sex still lingers in the air and it sends a shiver of arousal down your spine.

They situate you on the bed, lying back comfortably as they all climb in around you, maws nearly drooling at the sight of your perfect neck, analyzing where they’ll leave their bonding marks.

“I want you all at the same time,” you gasp softly as Cassian noses at your neck, searching for your scent gland. He can’t wait to taste you.

Rhysand chooses one side of your neck, the two warriors on the other side, and they all share a look between each other, their pact hanging heavily between them. Not a single one of them were to be mated with you, they all loved you too much to see one brother win out, but the three of them, together…this could work.

There are already tears of joy in your eyes and Azriel kisses them away before they settle in, teeth scraping against your neck, a gentle tease that has you shivering in anticipation, before the alpha's bite down.

You let out a ragged moan as their teeth sink into you, drawing blood and throwing your hands into their hair, scrambling to touch any parts of them that you can. The feeling is surreal, you don’t even think you’re in your body anymore, you can see parts of yourself through each of their eyes, back arching off of the bed in pleasure. You keen, overwhelmed by feelings that aren’t even yours, tears slipping freely from your eyes.

You try to pull them closer, their growls of pleasure have their teeth sinking in further, marking you for good.

When they tear themselves from your neck you can’t help but let out a sob. But then they’re each kissing you, taking turns and you can taste your blood on their mouths but it’s heavenly and you don’t think that you could be any happier than you are right now.

“Well?” Cassian asks when you’ve calmed down a bit. He’s looking at you with anticipation, nervous and needy, and so are Az and Rhys.

“C’mere then,” you whisper, letting him help you sit up. On your knees before him you brush away the hair at the nape of his neck, fingers brushing over the tan skin lightly. You give the spot a teasing lick and his hands grip your hips for stability, exhaling a shaky breath.

You don’t hesitate further, biting into the soft skin, completing the mark. The metallic taste of his sweet blood is overwhelming, and you feel a rush throughout your body, like you’re drunk off of him. You sway at the feeling and four more hands hold you up, grounding you.

You gasp, pulling away but his lips are pressed against yours in the next second, body flush against yours in hunger. Your hands frame his head, reveling in the feeling of his bond nestled in your heart.

But there are still two more males waiting patiently for your mark.

Azriel is next. Kissing him softly, sharing the blood of his brother with him, the shadowsinger growls at the taste of another alpha on you, gripping you tighter to his chest.

His hazel eyes are dark, and he guides your mouth where he wants you to mark him, right where everyone can see. You moan against his hot skin, clamping your teeth down harshly because you know it will get him a bit bothered.

And it does. He groans out your name, shadows sweeping around the both of you in excitement, his cock hardening in his pants. You palm him roughly before you pull away, the taste of him dizzying you. His chest heaves and it takes both of his brothers to pry his hands off of you because of the look you’re giving him – unfinished business.

You smirk at Rhysand who’s already giving you that look, that hunger in his eyes is the exact kind he gets when he thinks about ruling over the Night Court, powerful and dominating.

You wrap your arms around his neck and he dips his head down, licking over your lips for a taste of his friends, of you, all mixing together as one. He never thought he’d share a mate, and with two people no less, but you are worth it, even only having a third of your heart is worth it to him.

You already know where to bite him, you’d thought about it so many times, pictured it the first time you met him. You want it right at his collar, where it would peek over his clothing for his future peoples to see, a mated alpha marked by a territorial omega.

He lets you. He’d let you do anything you wanted to him if you batted your eyelashes the way you’re doing now.

With a nod on his behalf, you dig in, tearing at the skin with your teeth, drinking down a few gulps of his blood, making a mess across your lips. It’s not as neat as you’d like, but the feeling of him spreading through your body has you power hungry, staking claim of what's yours.

He hisses in pleasure, letting you take as much as you want, and you pop off from his skin, soothing over the torn flesh with your tongue as it heals, lapping up every single drop. 

“You cruel, wicked, thing,” he purrs once you’ve pulled away, collecting a stray drop of blood from your lip with his thumbs and sucking it into his own mouth, violet eyes glowing.

“Welcome to the pack.”

[mecarolmorais-blog]

A Corte dos Esquecidos - Capítulo 3 (on Wattpad) https://my.w.tt/PqQChIZ6YU O que acontece com as crianças que nascem mais fortes e poderosas que os Senhores da Cortes? Essa história é sobre o que acontecem com elas e para onde elas vão. Há um lugar esquecido em Prythian. Uma dobra, um lugar para atravessar. Alguns pensaram que nem ao menos existisse ar. O que não imaginavam é que ali existe uma Corte e herdeiros esquecidos. Mas o que estava em oculto será revelado e o futuro de Prythian está nas nãos deles. Deixem seu comentário. Espero que gostem! Essa é uma história baseada nas obras de Sarah J Maas.